


“I’m not sure whether the president is allowed to have a favourite reporter”

by elainebarrish



Category: Political Animals, Political Lesbians
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-04
Updated: 2015-09-04
Packaged: 2018-04-19 00:09:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4725407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elainebarrish/pseuds/elainebarrish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Susan is struck by one thought as she watches Elaine’s speech, as she feels herself grinning wide enough that she can feel her face start to hurt, and it’s that she’s friends with the president of the United States. Maybe even best friends."</p>
<p>Elaine wins, the after party is more fun than expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	“I’m not sure whether the president is allowed to have a favourite reporter”

**Author's Note:**

> this is awwffuuullll and literally screwed me over like this fic killed me but celine tweeting me "eye emoji" and lasagna got me through it idk the last like 600 words are me being like lmao what, I love these two getting together but it is so hard 2 write

Susan is struck by one thought as she watches Elaine’s speech, as she feels herself grinning wide enough that she can feel her face start to hurt, and it’s that she’s friends with the president of the United States. Maybe even best friends. Or something like that anyway, and she remembers that technically she should be writing an article but she’s too busy staring up at this woman, this figurehead, that is so much more than just Elaine Barrish now. She’s running an entire country, she’s the leader of the free world, and Susan has documented that rise to power with almost no competition, and Elaine hasn’t even tried to get her to lie for her during the whole campaign, which is good because Susan is well aware that she would have done it, and not just to keep her trust. She cares, and she’s in awe, and she never expected to be this close to history, never thought she’d be part of the people that were finding their way back to the campaign's headquarters to congratulate Elaine on an election well fought.

It's with a small amount of trepidation that she waits for Elaine at headquarters, looking around at the people that had helped to make this happen, noticing the big donors that would expect Elaine's time, that paid for her to make history so that they could be part of the acknowledgements. It's the kind of party Susan would prefer to avoid like the plague, and she knows that Elaine is heading home as soon as she can, but that these people are too important for her to ignore. Susan was told that she could go straight to Elaine's, with the family and senior staff, but she wanted to see her as soon as she could, didn't want to wait however long it would take her to get home, even if that means she has to stand around with people she doesn’t know, trying to look like she’s busy clicking away on her phone when actually she’s just on Twitter.

Everyone suddenly moves forward and it’s like an eruption of noise and sound, people clapping and waving banners and Elaine is there, standing taller than most of the people in the room, smiling and looking pleased, and maybe tired, but also relieved, and Susan is glad that she came here first. She’s glad that she gets to watch Elaine go around the room, making small talk with donors and important people, smiling for the press, and eventually she notices Susan in the corner, who waves stupidly, and gets a real smile in return. She’s about to slip out when Elaine finally gets around to her, and she’s wearing that real smile again, the one that Susan can tell is different to the one that’s been on TV today, that’s been shown around this room.

“I’m about to go, are you coming to mine?”

“Of course,” she struggles for a reason to be here. “Just wanted to see the reactions to your victory.” Elaine grabs her hand and begins attempting to lead her out of the building to where her car is waiting, her ever faithful driver ready to take her home, and Susan worries about whether Elaine can feel her palm sweating, or if the way her heartbeat spiked was noticeable. They get waylaid multiple times, and Elaine sends her several apologetic smiles as she faces the public, and she doesn't let go of her hand, even though there's many cameras trained upon them.

She let's go to get in the car, and Susan's aware that she's disappointed, as lame as that is, but she focuses instead on managing conversation, and not looking like a total idiot, regardless of whether being in an enclosed space with Elaine always had that effect on her.

"So. President-elect," she's grinning beside herself. "How's it feel?"

"Is my answer going to be in the papers in the morning?" she asks dryly, maybe with a small amount of tiredness colouring her voice.

"No, I've had the article that'll go in the paper tomorrow morning written for months. I'm asking purely as a friend."

"I'm thrilled, obviously," Elaine pauses. "I'm also tired, but a huge part of me is just relieved, while simultaneously dreading having to do this all again in a few years."

"Incumbents almost always win," she smiles, meeting Elaine's eyes. "Give yourself a break."

"I don't even have to do anything for the next month, right?" she asks with a small smile, and it's Susan that looks away, still grinning as she nods.

"Exactly. A whole month to ready your cabinet and prepare for your inauguration, more than enough time for you to relax now."

"I need a drink," Elaine smiles, laughs, and Susan wants to kiss her.

As soon as Elaine opens the door the family piles on her, and she's handed a drink and whisked into the living room, where there's various family and family friends scattered about, but in the limelight it's Elaine and her sons and somehow still Bud, and Susan feels like she's intruding, even though she's not the only one there, so she pours herself a drink and sits on the opposite side of the room to Margaret, who still doesn't really like her.

She’s talking to some of the few people in the Democrat party that Elaine actually likes when they make eye contact again, and when Elaine smiles at her it’s a wonder that she doesn’t blush, that she just raises her glass as a toast to her, to her victory. Elaine rolls her eyes and works her way over, and when the other politicians have said their congratulations they disappear off, probably home to their families instead of staying here with hers. Susan doesn't have anyone to go home to, and the people in this room have somehow become the closest thing she has to a family, but she feels out of place for their victory. She's an unpleasant necessity, one they're used to but that they don't enjoy.

"I suppose your article will be front page news tomorrow, right?" Susan nods and Elaine smiles, and she's aware all over again just how tall this woman is. "A victory for both of us, it seems."

"I couldn't have done it without you," Susan says, tone sarcastic, but she means it in ways that she doesn't quite want Elaine to know.

“I always knew at least one good thing had to come out of me winning, but I wasn’t expecting it to be Susan Berg’s byline being on the front page. Not as a good thing, anyway.” She’s joking too but Susan can feel herself glowing, and she hopes she’s hiding it at least moderately better than she feels like she is.

“A lot’s changed in the last few years, but I never would have thought that it would end like this. Well, I did grudgingly expect you’d end up president eventually, but I never thought I’d be here.”

“I wouldn’t have believed that you’d be the one who was praising my rise to power as “exactly what America needs”.” She smiles into her drink and Susan rolls her eyes.

“I hate it when you quote my articles back at me.”

“I know,” she smiles and Susan rolls her eyes, then looks into her punch, but she can't fight the smile hovering around her lips.

"So what now?" She asks after a long moment.

"Well right now I'm going to drink a lot more. But after that I suppose there's things I need to do, like hire my administration."

"We both know you've already got that sorted out," Susan smiled. "The drinking sounds like a good idea though."

"I'm sure Bud will be breaking out the hard liquor now that the staff have gone." Her tone is wry and they both look at Bud holding court, making Doug and Anne laugh about something probably inappropriate, and Susan can't help but push, and she regrets the words almost immediately.

"Do I not count as staff?" She's surprised when Elaine turns to face her fully, looking at her seriously, and puts her hand on her shoulder, turning her slightly to make sure she's facing her.

"Of course you don't," she smiles, softly, and Susan feels like she's melting into the heat of the warm palm cupping her shoulder. "I trust you, much more than just someone who works for me." Her smile spreads, and her voice takes on that wry tone again. "You're much more than my pet reporter."

"I should hope so," Susan manages, trying not to make this more serious, to act like she didn't really mind, but Elaine was still giving her that look, like she could see through her right into the part of her mind that was telling her to kiss her, to just give up on trying to hide, and she can't help but duck her head to get away from her gaze. "I'm going to need you if I want my next Pulitzer."

Elaine pretends to sigh, still smiling, and Susan looks up to a look that seems to be full of affection and exasperation, and it's warm and God, Susan almost wants to call it sparkling. Elaine Barrish is sparkling at her, or she thinks she is, and she's pretty sure she's just staring back. A moment later Bud's calling Elaine over, and Susan's relieved to see her expression go from warm to slightly annoyed, and she rolls her eyes and drags Susan with her to be handed drinks and be put through another toast, Bud wittering on about something while Susan tries not to look at Elaine too much and fails spectacularly.

Later, after more drinks and even Doug relaxing around her, she’s sat on one of the sofas sipping another drink that she didn’t make but was handed, this time by Elaine as she sat down next to her, smiling, stealing the seat that TJ had just vacated (they'd actually been having a pretty pleasant conversation - he'd never really blamed her for the story getting out; he knew it would eventually).

“I see you’re making nice with my sons,” her tone is wry as she takes a drink, smiling at Susan in a relaxed way that Susan is pretty sure is the relief but also largely the alcohol.

“You say that like I haven’t been perfectly nice to them this entire campaign,” she laughed. “Thanks for the drink, anyway.”

“I noticed you'd finished yours and I guessed that TJ wasn't going to get you another so I thought I'd help out," her voice has changed from before, and so has her gaze, and Susan feels like Elaine might actually be flirting with her on purpose.

"You noticed?" she asks deadpan but surprised, trying not to smile.

"Yes, and I felt that it was a situation that had to be rectified," Elaine takes another drink and Susan struggles to remind herself that the gaze being levelled at her is one of an intoxicated woman, and also the future president of the United States. "So now that I have risen to power, what's next on your list as something that needs documenting?"

“You’re at the forefront of politics now, you’re the thing that everyone will be looking to get a story on, and as your pet reporter I was hoping that you’d be amenable to helping me out with that a bit.”

“You’re asking me to give you stories? I’m not sure the president counts as an informant.”

“While a bit hazy about the details around that it’s more that I’d just like to… know things first.”

“I’m not sure whether the president is allowed to have a favourite reporter,” Elaine’s still smiling though, lazily, like she doesn’t really care what the outcome of this conversation is, like she would promise this to Susan without thinking, or actually already has.

“It doesn’t matter whether you’re allowed, not when you already have one,” Susan teases, and Elaine pretends to narrow her eyes at her, and the moment stretches.

"I'm not sure she counts as a favourite if she has designated herself as such.” Elaine says finally, and it’s almost like they’re both daring each other to be the make the leap, but Susan is still sure that this is just her being excited about Elaine winning, and her crush getting in the way. She’s sure that Elaine is straight, that she has no interest in her, that she would rather find someone that would be politically suitable, or even just not bother with bringing that drama up during the next eight (because Susan is sure that it’ll be eight) years that she’s in office.

“It would depend on whether we could keep our work and personal lives separate.” Susan responds and she doesn’t mean it in regards to dating but she realises that that’s what it could sound like, but she just hopes that Elaine doesn’t notice and doesn’t say anything, even as she gives her a smile that makes it clear that she heard the connotations, like the lazy smile she'd already been wearing had spread into something with a more focused intent.

“That was a concern,” she paused, and didn’t seem to move but Susan was suddenly more aware of how close she was, how she was taller than her even while they were seated, the way that her body was twisted towards her, her arm along the back of the sofa. “But I’ve come to realise that personal and politics always get’s confused, and that on the rare occasion that’s not necessarily a bad thing.”

“So I am your favourite reporter?” She pushes, and smiles, gold eyes focused on Elaine, like a stand off where they were both waiting for one of them to admit what they were waiting for.

“I suppose that depends on whether or not your next few articles about me are nice, a whole campaign doesn’t make up for a Pulitzer.”

“You said you’d stop bringing that up!” Susan pouts and Elaine laughs, but then she pats her knee and her hand stays there, soaking heat through her trousers, and she tries to look vaguely contrite.

“That was mean,” she admits, and then her smile returns the slightly predatory one from before. “How can I make it up to you?”

“You could tell me I’m your favourite reporter?” she tries.

“How about I show you?” The hand on her knee moves up to her neck, her face, and rests there for a moment until she’s leaning forward, her arm slipping off the headrest, and she hovers for a moment, as though she’s unsure, giving Susan a chance, so it’s Susan who closes the distance between them, and they kiss for a long moment, right there in the middle of Elaine’s living room with the Barrish-Hammond family around them, and no one seems to notice, not even as they draw back and look at each other for a long moment, breaths uneven and shallow. It seems to be silent for a moment, then Margaret cuts across any remaining conversations in the room.

“I always knew you were after Elaine,” she says scathingly and the whole room laughs while Elaine rolls her eyes and Susan blushes, and when they turn back to each other they’re both still grinning, glad to be here.


End file.
